In the Evening of Life
by GraceBe
Summary: This is what could have happened, if Perry had married Laura instead of staying with Della... Last chapter added!
1. Chapter 1

**A big thank you goes to my beta Gemenied for being quick - and being her. **

**Please notice that this story is set in an alternative universe and perhaps not what you expect. Any kind of constructive criticism is highly appreciated!  
><strong>

**In the Evening of Life**

"_**In the evening of life we'll be judged by love alone" ~ St. John of the Cross**_

_Sacramento ~ 1974_

It was almost 5 pm when Della returned home from her appointment with her physician. It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon in late August without a single cloud bothering the sky. Dropping her handbag on the circular table in the entrance hall, Della strode into the sun flooded living room and enjoyed the peaceful silence. Her friend Louise had called off their appointment for dinner and so she could look forward to a peaceful evening at home.

She opened the terrace door and stepped out. Pausing at the sight of the endless ocean whose waves crashed at the nearby shore, she inhaled deeply, before she went to the table where a glass jug with lemonade was waiting for her.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Carlisle," the maid greeted her friendly as she entered the terrace from another French door. She carried a tray with two glasses and the mail.

"Hello Sarah," Della greeted her with a bright smile. "Two glasses?" she asked. "I thought I told you Mrs. Thompson wouldn't visit us tonight."

"I know, Ma'am. The glass isn't for Mrs. Thompson..." the young woman hesitated. "It's for your other visitor." Sarah turned around, staring at the French door, she had just passed.

"My other visitor?" Della asked, surprised and turned to where she heard steps from. She froze when she realized who her guest was and felt her mood instantly sinking.

"Yes, Ma'am..." Sarahs' cheeks turned red, as she helplessly looked from one woman to the other, realizing she had probably made a mistake by allowing the stranger to wait for the mistress of the manor. Mrs. Carlisle was hardly a boss who became angry, but this time, Sarah realized she had gone too far. Della's brown, but usually friendly hazelnut eyes had narrowed and a dark shadow was crossing her face.

"I hope you don't mind me intruding like this, but I was in town and thought it would be nice to pay you a visit." The woman's smile was bright, but it didn't reach her eyes. As beautiful and impeccable her looks still were, no one could doubt the visit wasn't meant to be a friendly one.

"It's all right, Sarah," Della said, her eyes fixed on the woman at the door. "You may leave us alone."

Relieved to escape without ending up harmed, Sarah left quickly and closed the doors behind her.

"You have a beautiful house, Della."

"Thank you, Laura."

Feeling interrupted and intimidated by the other woman Della went to the table and started pouring some lemonade. "Can I offer you something? Coffee? Anything else?"

"No, thank you. Richard isn't at home?" Laura asked, looking around and remarked sweetly. "The house seems so empty."

"He's in Washington," Della replied chilly. "He's not coming back till tomorrow. Won't you take a seat?"

"No thanks. I won't stay long... Life isn't easy in Washington these days," Laura confirmed. "You should have gone with him, but I'm sure you know everything that is going on there, since you're pretty much involved in his campaign – at least recently."

With a swift movement Laura produced a newspaper out of her handbag and placed it in the middle of the table. It showed Della, Richard, and Perry at a fundraiser. The trio was caught in a deep conversation, oblivious to the cameras of the press. The headline spoke for itself:

"_**Reunion of sorts. Mason, his ex secretary and his competition." **_Ridiculous.

"What about this?" Della asked, sipping her lemonade.

"Perry didn't tell me you had met in San Francisco last weekend."

"So what?" Della shrugged.

"I wonder why."

"You have to ask him," Della replied, noticing that her voice sounded as icy as Laura's.

"My husband never lied to me before," Laura said. "Not even when he paid you a visit the night before your wedding with Richard. He always tells me what moves or bothers him."

"So does mine," Della returned. "But this isn't about my husband, isn't it? I think Perry missed you last weekend. Why weren't you in San Francisco?"

"I was busy."

"Apparently."

"Did he complain to you about my lack of presence?"

"Actually we didn't talk about you at all..." Della retorted, noticing with dark satisfaction that Laura frowned at her last sentence "Not that we had much time to catch up. You know that these kind of events are merely a place for the candidates to catch votes, not for pleasure."

"Votes your husband is highly in need of. It doesn't look good for this campaign."

Already tired of the nasty exchange, Della sighed and asked, "What is it you want, Laura? What bothers you so much about this picture that you decided to come out here?"

Laura laughed bitterly, "Are you really asking me why this bothers me?" she asked, pointing with her index finger at the photo. "Either you're even more naive than I thought, or you really think you can play dumb with me! You knew Perry would be at the fundraiser and that's the only reason you turned up there!"

"I went there because Richard asked me to. Neither he or I knew Perry would be there as well."

"Do you think I believe that Richard Carlisle didn't know his biggest rival for the upcoming senate elections would attend the same fundraiser? And you? Aren't you the one who's managing his office?"

Della bit her lips, reluctant to defend herself to a woman who had started to make her life miserable a long time ago and obviously couldn't find a way to stop her behavior.

"Actually, I'm not in charge there anymore. Not that this should be your concern. Just take my word for it that I didn't know Perry would be there."

For a moment Laura just stared at her. Then she slowly approached Della and hissed, "Tell me one thing, Della. Did you really hope that if you were married to someone else, Perry would still be interested in you? That marrying his biggest competitor would guarantee you his attention? You should have known the press would have a field day when Perry Mason's former secretary and now wife of his competitor would meet in official function. Or was it a merely private motive?"

"You don't really expect me to answer this, do you? Because it's insulting and sick."

"Then why did you go to see him after the fundraiser?" Laura asked, her eyes glittering with triumph. "I know you were in his suite. Alone, without your husband!"

Della's jaw dropped, but she recovered quickly from the shock and answered, "It was a short, private conversation. Whoever your spy is, surely reported you this."

"What bothers me is that any keen reporter could have seen the two of you. If you want to destroy your own husband's career by bedding another man, feel free to do so, but keep your claws from my husband!"

"Leave my house. This conversation is over!" Barely keeping her rage in check, Della marched towards the French doors and pushed them open. "Good day, Laura."

Realizing Della was serious about throwing her out, Laura grabbed the article and her handbag and passed her on her way out.

"I mean it, Della. Stay away from Perry. He made up his mind about you a long time ago. The day he asked me to marry him."

"I'm pretty sure, Perry knows what to think of me," Della answered, facing a white faced Laura. Then she turned her back on her visitor, awaiting the moment the front door would close behind her. Then she reached inside her purse, took out a small bottle of her medication and swallowed two pills at once. Not that they would help.

She was used to the physical pain by now, but the pain inside her chest wasn't to be cured. She drew a deep breath, collected herself and looked at the ocean. It was going to be a long, empty evening.

**~Finis~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, this is just because you asked for it ;-) But if you're unwilling to read something sad that possibly won't have a happy ending, you shouldn't bother to continue. Consider yourself warned. **

**A big thank you goes to my beta Gemenied.  
><strong>

**In the Evening of Life **

**Chapter 2 - Tempus Fugit**

"_Things and actions are what they are, and the consequences of them will be what they will be; why then should we desire to be deceived ?" ~ Unknown source_

_1974 ~ Washington DC_

Though Perry had known someone would be waiting for him, once he had returned to his hotel room, he couldn't say he was prepared for it. The phone call in the morning had caught him off guard. He hadn't expected it and he still didn't know what to make of it.

The few times he had met Richard Carlisle in person were pleasant, yet sometimes tense encounters. They were competitors. Political rivals, as Laura used to call it, preferring not to mention the one link between them, that made their relationship personal and unique.

Carlisle was a tall man, dark haired and cordial on the surface. Before he went into politics he had been District Attorney in Sacramento. His reputation was flawless, maybe too flawless. Many people, in Washington, used to say he needed more edges, more teeth. But Mason knew only too well, that Carlisle did win his cases for a reason and not because he was lucky. Carlisle just preferred not to overuse his teeth. The man was integer, highly intelligent, and determined. What probably spoke mostly for him was the woman at his side. Della Street would never marry a fool or a slacker, nor would she tolerate a husband without a backbone or a power hungry illusionist. Actually it was her choice of man who made Perry doubt his own candidacy.

In the last ten years he had carefully avoided her and so had she avoided him. They had always worked without words and at least that hadn't changed, despite the different paths their lives had taken. But sooner or later it was inevitable that they had to meet. To his relief there hadn't been any hard feelings between them, even though their last meeting had been a disastrous one. Della Street... Carlisle was still her old self. Charming, witty, and full of grace. Being one of the most beautiful and empathetic women he had ever met, she had understood how to ease the tension between the three of them, something that probably hadn't worked out, if Laura had been there.

It was only in the run of the evening when he had noticed that something was wrong with her. Something that ran much deeper than her being bothered by the circumstances of their meeting and it hadn't eased his worried when she turned up in his suite after the fundraiser to talk to him in private, risking to be seen by anyone, not to mention her husband.

So what did Carlisle want? Had she told him and now he wanted to mark his territory? He hadn't sounded enraged when he called Perry, but then he didn't know how Carlisle sounded when he was angry.

Mason had hardly closed the door behind him, when Carlisle was knocking at it.

"I'm sorry," he said as he entered. "But my plane is taking off in less than two hours. I don't have much time. You don't mind me intruding like this, do you?"

"No problem," Perry answered. "Can I get you a drink?" He checked out Carlisle's appearance. The man looked tired, a bit stressed. His tan was gray and he obviously didn't get a lot of sleep these days. But then who wasn't stressed out by Watergate, Nixon, and the whole damn thing?

"No, thanks," Carlisle shook his head. "I'm not here for socializing."

"I didn't think so," Perry admitted. "So what is it?"

"I take it this meeting is private?" Carlisle asked. "I don't want you to tell anyone about it – not even your wife."

"My wife? What's Laura got to do with this?"

"Not too much. I just don't want her to know – or anyone else."

"All right," Perry agreed after a short hesitation.

"I take it, you and Della talked to each other last weekend." So, his suspicion was right. He clenched his jaw.

"You were there."

"I mean after the fundraiser. When she was in your suite." Carlisle looked directly into Perry's face, as the lawyer straightened his shoulders. "Listen, Richard..."

But Carlisle dismissed the attempted justification with a wave of his hand.

"I know. I trust Della. She would never be unfaithful to me. What did she tell you?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that. It was private conversation between old friends."

"Friends?" Carlisle laughed. "Please, Perry. I know everything about the two of you or at least enough to get the picture. Just tell me, if she said something to you that seemed odd to you. It's important."

"Odd? There was nothing odd about her, aside from the fact that she came to see me, after she avoided me for the last ten years."

"She had every reason to, hadn't she? First you hook up with her and then you kick her to the curb, because your ex girlfriend is pregnant with your child. It was huge blow for her to be replaced like this."

"It wasn't quite like that." Perry explained calmly. "Della knows it wasn't that easy."

Richard shrugged, his hands buried in the pockets of his pants. "It's never THAT easy, actually. Maybe it's the prosecutor in me, but I know how much she suffered and especially, when Laura lost the baby in that car accident only two months after the wedding."

"Aren't you a little late to charge me for this?" Perry asked, trying to hide his annoyance. The incredible mess he had found himself in, when Laura told him she was pregnant was now just as present as back then. Della had handled the situation as graciously as she handled everything in life. She had left, without being asked. There had been no begging, no rages, no tears.

"No, I think it's just the right time, Mason. Della maybe didn't tell you the real reason why she wanted to see you, but I'm going to tell you. I don't do this, because I like you or because I think you deserve it. I only do it, because I think she deserves it, because I love her and because I want her to be happy, even if that means I have to betray her trust."

An uneasy feeling that had been brewing in Perry's gut suddenly exploded.

"Shoot, then. I'm all ears."

"Della's ill, Perry. Gravely ill."

The words hung in the air like a thick, pending cloud. The meaning on the other hand didn't enter Perry's brain. He didn't understand the words.

"It's her lungs," Richard continued lowly. "She doesn't have much time left. Maybe six months... maybe more. I figured she wanted to talk to you, because she needed this time with you. Time to say good bye. Time to make up for whatever happened between you."

"But she..." Perry shook his head. Carlisle was wrong. He didn't know what he was talking about. Della was fine. Indestructible. Healthy. He had watched her all evening. She was beautiful as ever. Just a bit tired and the shadows around her eyes were nothing but signs of a exhausting life at the side of a politician. Not that she had appeared much in public lately.

"If there's anything you haven't told her last weekend, I advise you to talk to her again. Make it up to her."

Carlisle looked at Perry who had sunken onto the armrest of the couch and was now staring into nowhere.

"Why isn't she in a clinic, if it's that bad?"

"Don't you know her at all?" Richard returned the question, emphasizing with every word what Perry knew all along. Della would never allow their lives to be turned upside down, because she was ill. Steadfast as she was, there was nothing that could convince her to take it easy for her own sake.

"I'm going home tonight and stay for the weekend. On Monday and Tuesday I'll be back in Washington. Della will join me on Wednesday, at least that's the plan."

Perry finally looked up to Carlisle. He gave him, them, two days.

"I see." Perry rose, still shell-shocked. "She's lucky to have you."

"I'd love to believe that."

Carlisle gave Perry a quick nod and then he left without paying him another look. The door closed behind Carlisle.

As if in a trance Perry moved to his desk and opened the drawer. On a couple of files there lay the newspaper from the last weekend. The picture of Carlise, Della, and him looked at him. Underneath he had placed another photo. One without Carlisle in the middle that showed only Della and him at Christmas 12 years ago. She had given him a pocket watch as a present. One he still carried with him at all times.

_Tempus fugit._

Time flies and we change with it. Time flies and we do things we never thought we would. Time flies and we don't learn to use it. Time flies and it's impossible to turn it back.

**~tbc~**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - In vino veritas**

"_Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth." ~ Oscar Wilde_

Sacramento, 1974

Della spent the evening in her bedroom, reading a book. A glass of red wine next to her that wasn't supposed to be there, was her loyal companion. Her physician had told her wine or any kind of alcohol wouldn't agree with her medication and he was probably right, but tonight she felt like disobeying. Richard wasn't home yet and so he couldn't complain about her disregard of a well meant advice, but Richard hadn't been at the receiving end of Laura Mason's kindness and couldn't know why [s]he needed something to calm her down. Damn, that woman could still enrage her like nobody else in this world. It didn't matter how fast time passed and how things had changed over the years, but some scars never stopped itching.

Della closed the book, she had been trying to read and looked at the bottle next to the glass. The dark red liquid looked tempting, but she knew emptying the whole bottle wasn't a good idea. She didn't tolerate her illness, but she wouldn't make the mistake of misjudging it. Her illness was, just like Laura's sudden appearance, nothing but an ungrateful reminder of the detours she had taken in life.

Perry didn't know Laura had paid her a visit. Laura was too clever to show him, that she felt threatened by his past with Della, and it was best that way. The last thing she needed now was Perry reentering her life, because he felt obligated towards his ex lover. She grimaced, she had always loathed that expression. It sounded so demeaning, so little truthful, so unworthy of what they had been. And somehow it wasn't over. Maybe it ended the day she died, but it certainly hadn't ended when she left him or when she married Richard.

She hadn't planned to meet him privately in San Francisco. Her feet had just taken her to his room and she had shamelessly allowed herself to bask in his undivided attention for five minutes. Not even Laura could take that away from her. What caused her pain was what she had done to Richard. The one man who made her feel guilty about it, the one who knew, did understand her, and regardless of her feelings had offered her the embrace, she couldn't expect from Perry.

Sometimes she hated Richard Carlisle for his open moral compass and his way of seeing through her without blaming her.

Many people would see his attitude as indifference, but she knew it was his way of showing his love, and support, and his deep understanding of her personality.

One hour ago he called to tell her his plane had landed and he was on his way home now. Della knew he was lying when he said, that he'd come home earlier, because his schedule had changed. Over the last few weeks, he often changed his mind and returned home to be with her, though it complicated his working life. They shared the silent agreement not to mention it, but Della sensed that sooner or later, depending on how fast her health would decline, she needed to make sure, Richard didn't forget about his duties and his campaign. Otherwise what would there be left for him, once he was alone?

The idea depressed her and she returned her attention to the red wine. It was a rich, dark liquid that tasted of late, suave summer nights. Their 5th wedding anniversary, spent in Italy.

As the wine passed her tongue she heard his steps in the hallway. The door was open and as soon as the lights in the hallway were switched on, she heard him whistling "Something's Gotta Give" or at least his version of the song that usually lacked rhythm and keys.

"Now what is this?" Richard asked, as he stopped in the door frame, the jacket lazily thrown over his shoulder. "A wife waiting for her husband."

"A wife listening to her husband's bad attempt to imitate music." She raised her glass and made a toast in his direction.

"Wine?" he asked, his eyebrow crooked in surprise.

"Yes," she replied.

Richard entered the room, got rid of his shoes and his jacket and joined her, occupying his side of the king-sized bed.

"Do we have something to celebrate?" he asked, took the glass from her and smelled the scent.

"No, it was just a spontaneous idea," she answered.

"Italy," he commented amused and took a sip. "But didn't we agree that alcohol and medication aren't good partners in crime?"

"What if I told you, I skipped tonight's medication in favor of the wine?" she asked with a small smile.

"I would think, you had to have a very good reason for it..." He sighed and returned the glass to her waiting hands. "What did the doctor tell you this morning?" he asked, a little more serious now.

"I'm okay... he praised me for my good behavior." She had given her answer to the collar of her robe and so he placed his hand gently underneath her chin and turned her face towards him.

"Are you sure?"

Now she dropped the playfulness as well and said, "Richard... of course, I am. My results were fine." For a moment his darker eyes connected with her hazel ones, as if he was trying to find confirmation for her last statement.

"I'm glad to hear that." He sighed, but seemed to relax.

"How was Washington?" she asked in return, hoping to change the subject.

"Noisy, loud, annoying," he summed up and stretched. "You know I've been thinking about something."

"And what?"

"When we meet in Washington next week, we go straight to the next counter and book a flight to Barbados..." he paused, looked at the red wine and said. "Or even better to Italy."

Della's mouth opened in shock, but the words were stuck in her throat.

"But Richard..."

"I think I'll resign, Della. I'm already sick of Washington and I haven't even arrived there."

"Richard..." She didn't buy it. She wanted to, but she couldn't help it. There was no way, he would resign because of her. "I don't need Italy."

He lowered his head and for a minute neither of them said a word. Then he raised his head again and faced her. He was paler than before but his eyes glittered. "And what if I need it? I want to spend my time with you and Washington isn't the right place for it. And that's where I would be in the next couple of months or even years. It's a snake pit and as much as I love this house, I doubt we could be in peace here."

Abandoning the red wine, Della moved into his embrace and slipped her arm around his chest.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, but I want you to think about your future. You belong to Washington. You'll change things."

"Oh, stop it. We both know Mason will win this election. And why not? He's a good man."

With the mention of Perry's name, something in Della's chest crumbled down like a piece of paper that caught fire. She swallowed.

"You can't know this," she said flatly.

"I'm not fooling myself, Della. Mason's in the lead, he deserves to win. So why should I waste my time with an unwinnable campaign? Think about it... just the two of us in Tuscany, far away from all this."

She closed her eyes. Of course, she knew the survey results. Perry's formidable reputation as a lawyer who helped those who were in need was his biggest asset. He was highly respected and had what so many politicians lacked these days: honesty.

"I wish you wouldn't give up," she said, lifting her head, so that she could look him in the eyes. _A__nd I wish I could be healthy enough to see this through with you_, she added silently.

He ran his hand up and down her back, caressing her spine, while watching her face with a loving expression on his face.

"I'm not giving up, Darling. I'm just accepting that some things aren't meant to be – and I try to make the best of it."

She couldn't argue that point. She knew only too well what he was talking about. So, why not Italy? They hadn't been on vacation in years and as things looked it could be her last one. Just the thought about it scared her more than ever.

"So, you promise me this Italian idea is a completely egoistical one that only serves your wish to be as far away from Washington as possible?" Della asked, smiling to herself.

"Oh, I absolutely swear to it!"

It was the truth. His very own truth. One she didn't mind right now.

"Care to empty the bottle with me?" she asked and pointed at the lonely bottle to her side. "It's not good to drink alone."

"I feel so honored now," he teased and reached over to get the glass, but was stopped by her hands that cupped his face.

They never finished the bottle and when Richard left his house on Monday morning, he knew it was only a matter of hours, before another man would enter it and he hoped, in the end, Della would not spent the rest of her life with somebody else.

Maybe he was pathetic, but he would accept every lie, as long as she chose to stay with him to the very end.

Sometimes the truth isn't what we need, but we always hope, our good faith will be rewarded in the end.

**~tbc~**

**As always a big thank you goes out to my beta. The girl is pure gold. **

**And as always comments are highly appreciated :-)  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Amor fati**

**"_Love your fate" ~ Friedrich Nietzsche_**

_**Sacramento, 1974**_

When Della opened the door the pain in her chest was, at least this time, caused by the shock of his unexpected presence. Her throat became dry and her heartbeat increased instantly, as she fully realized his physical nearness. Inside of her burned a fight between anger and desperation that made it hard to process the full meaning of his visit. Aware that every emotion that was shaking her up, was mirrored in her face, she swallowed, waiting for him to make the first step.

"Hello Della," he greeted her softly.

"Hello, Perry," she returned flatly and couldn't move.

Her whole body language implied that she was rejecting him. "May I come in?" he asked, hesitating when he realized how she struggled to keep up her countenance. "Please," he added more gently and established eye contact with her until she realized he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Come in." She stepped aside, allowing him to enter her home.

"It's beautiful," he complimented as he followed her through the entrance hall into the light-flooded living room. He stopped in the middle of the room where he took his time to admire the view over the ocean and the open grand-sized room with its white furniture, the piano and its pictures that featured nothing but the story of a happy couple.

He felt she was watching him, her arms crossed over her chest. She still wasn't pleased with his sudden appearance and he had expected that reaction from her. He was intruding [in] her life, her home, from which she had banned him a long time ago.

"Why are you here, Perry?"

"Because I wanted to see you."

"As flattering as that sounds..." she sighed. "I thought we had an agreement."

"We had, but you were the first one to break it. You first came to see me in private."

She opened her mouth, wanted to argue that her case was different, but then she remained silent.

"Your husband paid me a visit," Perry further explained, then paused, waiting for her reaction. "He's an amazing person. I don't know if I could do what he did."

The expression on her face altered from utter disbelief to shock, and then to sadness.

"You almost fooled me, you know? I sensed something was wrong with you, but you really led me to believe, you just wanted to chit chat with me for old times' sake. Instead you only came to see me, because you knew that silently stealing yourself away wouldn't quite work out again."

"Silently stealing myself away?" she repeated in a shaking voice.

"Yes, that's what you're doing. It's your usual MO, because you think you know what's best," he drew a deep breath and then he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "I should really be angry with you for thinking so little of me that you decided not to be honest with me," he said, as he touched her face.

She looked up to him, her eyes swimming with tears. "It wasn't right of him to tell you," she said in a throaty voice and lowered her eyelashes to avoid his piercing gaze.

"I'm glad he did."

"I don't want pity," she said and turned away. "Especially not yours."

"Do I look as if I pity you?" he asked, swirling her, so that she had to face him again. "I'm here, because I..." He had grabbed her by her upper arms, pulling her a little closer, but now that their faces were only inches away, he didn't know what to say.

"I want to be with you. I want to talk to you. I miss you."

"And you remembered that when you heard I was ill?" she asked scathingly.

"I always remember it. There isn't a day that passes that I don't think of you!" He slowly loosened his grip, but she made no attempt to flee from his grip. "But you were the one who asked me to stay away in the first place. The night before you married Richard you told me to leave you alone and I agreed. Then you turned up on my doorstep and now it's on you to tell me you haven't missed me."

The intensity in his voice and the sparkle in his eyes touched her very core. Unable to keep up the facade she had been building up since he entered her home she sank against his chest.

"I knew it was a mistake to talk to you," she said, as the first tears ran down her face. "But I... I just wanted..."

"I know why," he whispered and stroked her back. "I know." He understood. He would want the very same.

They stood there in the middle of the sunny room, holding each other tightly, as if the world stood still.

As her tears had dried she finally pulled away and he gave her his handkerchief.

"As you see, Counselor, you're clinging to a lost case," she said bitterly while carefully cleaning her face.

"Is there nothing..." he started, but she cut him off.

"No, and before you ask... I'm doing my best to make my peace with the situation. It's not easy but there are days when I actually think I can pull this through without going insane."

She tried to crack a smile and clutched his hand, as she returned the handkerchief. "I need to make sure I'm strong enough when the end comes."

"You're the strongest person I know."

He meant it. Della was stronger and more confident than anyone else he had ever met. People used to say Laura was strong, but he knew by now, Laura's strength resulted from the walls she erected around herself. In her core, Laura depended on outside approval to hold up her shields. Della's strength came from inside, out of her very soul.

"I wish you had told me at the fundraiser," he said, this time without the hint of accusation in his voice.

Della shook her head. "It's bad enough that I just ran after you like some desperate ex girlfriend."

"You know it wasn't like that."

"But some people want to see me like that," she explained and drew a deep breath. She didn't want to cause a rift between Perry and his wife, but he needed to understand.

"Somebody saw me entering your suite and told Laura about it. She was here, made a big fuss and left. I don't even want to imagine what she thinks when she knows you're here now or when somebody else sees you here."

She cupped his cheek with her hand and ran her thumb over his skin. "You can't afford to be seen with your competitor's wife, no matter how noble your intentions are. Neither can I talk to you without embarrassing and hurting Richard, and I know he's hurting, no matter how much he encouraged you to pay me a visit."

He placed his hand on hers, led it gently to his mouth, and kissed it.

"I'm sorry," he said lowly. "I'm sorry, she upset you."

"She's fighting for the man she loves and I don't blame her for that."

He shook his head, "She's jealous and I'm afraid I gave her reason enough to be."

As always when he tried to blame himself, Della cut him off, "I don't think you..."

"I did and I'll never know how to make it up to her."

When Della shook her head, unable to understand what he was referring to, he drew a deep breath and explained, "The night Laura had the car accident and lost the baby we argued about you. She had found out I was still trying to talk to you, despite your explicit wishes. She overheard me talking to Mae at the phone. Anyway, she stormed out of my office and when she wanted to cross the street, she ran into that car..." He broke off, leaving the rest to her imagination.

"I'm so sorry." People were quick to say that nobody was to blame for a tragedy when actually all involved had their own share of responsibility. Laura's miscarriage was one of those events, Della assumed. They all had played their part in it and they all paid for it equally. She closed her eyes, asking herself why fate hadn't chosen them for less difficult tasks.

"She's never been the same after the accident," Perry concluded. "But she won't bother you again. I promise you that."

"I don't want to cause any trouble between the two of you."

"You aren't."

He reached out to take her left hand. The small diamond ring sparkled in the light of the dipping sun.

"The man's got taste," Perry complimented, as his thumb played with the graceful stone. "The perfect ring for the perfect woman."

"Let's say he knows how to flatter me just like somebody else I know."

She slowly pulled her hand back and removed the ring from her finger. He held his breath while he watched her placing it on the piano next to a framed photo of her wedding day.

"Can you stay for a while?" she asked, as she reached out for him.

"I hoped you would ask."

He woke up from the noise of screaming sea gulls. He rubbed his face, bent his head back and faced a white ceiling. He was lying on the couch in Della's living room. The door to the terrace was open. The morning air smelled fresh and the blue sky outside invited for a walk.

He swung his legs over the edge and closed the opened buttons of his shirt. He saw Della when he stepped out on the terrace. She was sitting at the beach, watching the ocean waves as they crashed onto the shore.

"Isn't it a bit too cold here?" he asked, as he placed a blanket over her shoulders.

She frowned at his touch, but when she bent her head to look up to him, her face brightened with a wide smile. "No, it's perfect, but thank you."

He sank down next to her and for a while they simply sat there, watching the movement of the water.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked after a while. "So peaceful."

"It certainly is," he agreed.

"You know, I can't ask you to stay much longer," Della said and turned her head, so that she could face him.

"Yes, I know," he answered. "As much as I want to stay."

She gently shook her head, "Yesterday was perfect. It was more than I could have asked for."

"I wish there was more time."

"Oh Perry," she smiled at him and leaned over to kiss him. "Don't you know that it doesn't matter how much time we spent together, as long as we use the few moments we get, to the fullest?"

He kissed her back, longer and more passionate than before.

"You're one of a kind, Della Street," he returned as they broke apart and caressed her chin with his thumb. "And I love you," he added lowly.

"I love you, too, Perry Mason."

She caressed his face, kissed him one last time and leaned her forehead against his. "Go now, please. It's time."

He did as he was told. No matter how much he wanted to stay, he left her home, never to return.

He drove the way back to Los Angeles and as the day ended, he had learned to accept the inevitable.

The day ended and he understood she was right to send him back. What they had shared was stronger and deeper and made it unnecessary to break their spouses' hearts. What they shared would last forever. Life was fragile and very often unfair, but what they meant to each other was unbreakable.

We only leave this world as a fragment when we leave without having loved our lives with all its detours and failures. Learning to love our fate was the hardest lesson of all, but thanks to her, he knew now, it was possible.

_**~tbc~**_

_**Disclaimer: In case I never mentioned it before, I don't own the characters of Perry Mason and I don't make any money from this - obviously. **_

_**Thanks again to my lovely beta!  
><strong>_


	5. Chapter 5

**Tentanda Via – The way must be tried**

_**"Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does." ~ James Arthur Baldwin**_

_Sacramento, 1974 – 10 hours earlier._

The night air was fresh, almost too cold for this time of year, but perhaps it was her own inner cold that caused her to shake. She abandoned the cigarette she had just lit and wrapped her arms around her middle.

There she stood at the beach, the moon and the waves in her back, her very own apocalypse in front of her. From her position underneath the Carlisle estate, she could see her husband and Mrs. Richard Carlisle dancing. She heard the low, soft music and she saw them slowly moving across the room. Down here she was protected by the darkness of the night, while the couple upstairs was exposed by the light of countless candles.

Did they talk?

Perhaps, but she doubted it. The wordless communication between Perry and Della had always been something, Laura was fascinated with. From the very first moment, she had seen them together that was the one thing to put her relationship with Perry in jeopardy. There was this invisible bond, the one look, the one smile and they knew what the other one was thinking. It was unique and that scared her. It also scared her that while she could read Perry's mind, he never knew how to read hers.

He simply saw something in her that she never was and never would be, while he saw everything in Della Street.

It's amazing how different relationships could be, she thought bitterly. In the last 14 years of her marriage, she and Perry had always worked on a physical level. Physical attraction had never been an issue between them. The chemistry up there in Della's living room on the other hand, was located in a different hemisphere. It was a place she didn't have access to.

In Perry's eyes, Laura was lust, Della was life.

If there was the slightest hint that anything but dancing and sharing some bittersweet memories would occur between them, she would storm the house. Not that it mattered if she did. It was useless, as useless as her visit at Della's had been. Before she had left the house again, she realized how desperate and foolish she must have looked. She had wanted to make a point and had missed it and now she paid for it.

Was it too much asked, to have her husband to herself? Hadn't she lost enough? Her career was over the moment, she realized she was pregnant. Her first reaction was to contemplate an abortion, the second was disgust, because her parents, good Catholics, hadn't raised her to think like that. Then, when she told Perry about the baby, she learned that he had started a relationship with Della Street, only two weeks after she left town to take the job offer in Denver. She thought she had lost the battle over him forever and was already making plans to leave the country. Then all of the sudden, he had proposed to her and she accepted it without questioning his motives. Della was gone. That was everything that counted. She thought the chapter was closed, the book sealed.

But it never was and today she hated herself for her own blindness. Laura had suspected Perry had sent her away, but she learned the crushing truth only weeks after the wedding when she found out Perry was searching for Della and tried to get in contact with her.

One day later, her baby, the one she hated at first and later wanted more than anything else, was dead. A victim of her temper and her foolishness. The accident changed her relationship with Perry. What followed were months of coldness that were sometimes interrupted by vivid arguments and angry sexual encounters. One battle followed the other and in the end they surrendered.

Perry worked more than ever and spent many nights in his office. She didn't complain about his absence and concentrated on a house, he hardly lived in and friends he barely knew. Their marriage was changing constantly, but improved after Paul Drake had died after he was shot in a court room by a man Perry exposed as a murderer. As a result Perry gave up on chasing murders and decided to go into politics. He wanted to change the law system that had caused his best friend to die. It was the day Laura saw her chance to build a new bridge between them and it worked – until she realized Richard Carlisle was Perry's competitor for the post as junior senator.

Over the years Laura had kept a close eye on Della, just as Perry had, and she had seen with relief that Perry's ex lover had decided to find herself another rich and respected attorney whom she could bewitch. Della tantalized Richard for over three years, before she finally married him - of course not without Perry's approval. He went to her on the night before the wedding and whatever they talked about, at least it didn't cause a further deterioration of her marriage. The peace went on.

And then he came home one day and told her about Carlisle and his candidacy that only meant one thing: Della was back in his life. Maybe not in person, but she saw it in his eyes when he searched for a picture of Mrs. Carlisle in the newspapers or tried to meet her on parties she didn't attend.

Laura had started to feel haunted and betrayed. Her inner battle was back on. She tried it all. Pills, shrinks, alcohol. The mere thought of Della drove her over the edge and found its climax up there on the terrace where Perry and Della were dancing right now.

Days after her visit the PI she had hired to get more information about Della and the stage of her marriage told her something that not only took her breath away, but also shocked her to her very core.

Della Street Carlisle was ill. Gravely ill. So ill, that her husband contemplated giving up on his career. Della Street was dying and Laura's world revolved faster than ever. Laura felt as if her counter pole was breaking away. The other woman was leaving this world and Laura was damned to watch how Perry ran back to her, just to spend a day, a tiny fragment of eternity at her side. What an epic loss in a war that used to identify her.

"You know, I had this feeling, I would find you here, after your butler told me, you had left town."

Laura froze. She knew the voice of the man that came closer. Carlisle.

"Hello Richard."

"Haven't you seen enough?" he asked, as he stopped right next to her.

"The question is, why you allowed this to happen!"

Richard followed her gaze up to his house where Perry and Della were now sitting at the table, oblivious to their watchers.

"What is it you fear?" he asked in return. "The road is ending here. I'm granting my wife her last wish.

"You know, when I first left my house this morning, I feared, Mason would forget his manners and take her with him, but then I realized, I was foolish to believe that. I think we both know in our hearts they would never run away. It's not what they do. It's not who they are."

"You always believe in the best of people, do you?" she asked, almost amused.

"I've been a District Attorney for too long to believe in the best of people. Some people have nothing good left in their hearts and brains..." His eyes came to rest on her. "It's time to go, Laura."

"What if you're wrong?" she asked. "What if I'll have nothing left tomorrow morning?"

"I just told you, one road is ending here. Where you'll go tomorrow I can't tell. That's up to you." He sighed and took her elbow, leading her away from his house and its occupants. "And now come with me. I'll buy you a drink – or shall I say a coffee?"

Laura followed him reluctantly, knowing her way was a dead end. She couldn't return, she couldn't turn back and look into another direction. When she realized she was pregnant, she thought fate had just whispered into her ear that Perry Mason was the right man for her. Now her child was dead and her husband spent his night with another woman.

Richard was right indeed. The way ended here.

**~tbc~**

**So the story is coming to an end. Just one more chapter and you'll find out how this four people move on with their lives. Thanks for your patience and your nice comments! I really appreciate your opinion! A BIG thank you goes to my beta Gemenied! A golden girl indeed!  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Quo Vadis?**

_"We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere." ― Tim McGraw_

Sacramento, Christmas 1984

_Dear Perry,_

_when you read this letter, there's nothing to do about it. I can't stand it anymore, I need to end my life and therefor[e] ours. It wasn't meant to be; we weren't meant to be and our son wasn't meant to be either._

_Take care and believe me that I loved you,_

_Laura_

Perry folded the letter and let it slip inside his jacket pocket. The wind here at the cemetery was unpleasant, but it was an unpleasant season – at least for him and every time he finally arrived at this place.

Christmas hadn't been a great holiday for him since 1959, since he spent the Holidays with Della. Nevertheless, being here gave him some peace. It was strange how this place changed him every time he stopped by. It was like returning home after a long time of being stuck abroad, where nothing was or grew familiar.

The roses still in his hands he looked at the beautiful grave stone.

_**Della Street Carlisle**_

_Beloved_

_Alive in our hearts_

She had died on Christmas Eve 1974 exactly 15 years after their last Christmas together. Richard Carlisle had called him in the middle of the night to tell him that she had passed away peacefully in their home.

Two days after Della's funeral Laura had killed herself with a deadly mix of sleeping pills and vodka. The loss of both women in such a short time had almost cost him his sanity and his faith. He had spent a long time living in utter darkness and pain. His campaign, his profession, his life, everything that used to define him, had gone to hell and more than once he had wished he would find the strength to follow them to another place.

Thank God he hadn't.

It was Richard Carlisle who reminded him that Della wouldn't have wanted it that way. She, the most life affirming and loving creature he had ever met, told Perry in his dreams to go on for her sake and every time he wanted to give up, her voice was gently whispering in his ear. He missed her every day, but he learned to live, her memory in his heart and mind, and make the best of it. He had started a new office, worked many pro bono cases. He and Richard founded the Della Carlisle Foundation that supported children with cancer and their families. Carlisle became a friend, an ally of sorts. One who reminded him that paths could part, but that didn't mean they led to a dead end.

The secretary he had hired for his office was male and the private detective a woman. The threesome magic from the old days was gone, but he had built up a new life and felt human again.

Every year on Christmas he returned to Della's grave, knowing she was watching him.

In the end he couldn't say his life had been wasted. He had taken too many detours, had allowed himself too many mistakes. He paid for his flaws and learned to accept them. He was grateful for the people he met, for those who brought light and shadow to his life, because none of it could exist without the other.

**~The End~**

**So this is the end of my morbid A/U story. Hope you enjoyed it a little and if not, I promise I'll try to make it up to you :-) Thank you to my beta Gemenied who is the hell of a good teacher and editor!  
><strong>


End file.
